And How Does That Make You Feel?
by Baibe
Summary: Keith Parr presses charges against Sam, she and Dylan have to work together to find a positive outcome. it's a Sylam   Sam/Dylan   story.
1. Trailer

******Hello and welcome to my new story! I wasn't expecting to start this yet but thanks to a little gentle persuasion from RuthaJade here we are, I'm afraid this is very short a trailer for the real thing which will happen just as soon as I come up with a proper story line. I hope you like it.**

**I do not own casualty or any characters or situations you recognise they are property of the BBC.**

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><p>"So Sam, is there anything you'd like to talk about today?" The dark haired woman sat forward on the leather chair surveying her over the top of the file she had open on her lap, she couldn't have been anymore cliched if she tried. Sam sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes why had she agreed to this? "We're on our third session now, and you are not going to get anything out of this unless you actually talk to me." She sat back and rested her hands on the arms of the chair tapping her fountain pen against the leather under her right hand in annoyance. The sound drew Sam's attention away from the window where she had been resolutely staring, she looked at the pen and then lifted her eyes to the doctor sat across from her. Doctor, she always thought it was laughable that these people were able to call themselves doctors. Do you need a degree to nod and say: 'and how does that make you feel?' they should come up with a new title for psychiatrists and therapists to save confusion or just call them what they were and be done with it. She smiled at her musings unaware that the therapist was once again talking to her, "Sam? How about we start with something easy, how was work today?" Sam knew what she was doing, get her talking about something else then suddenly she's crying and blaming everything on her father leaving them when she was four. "That young?" Sam looked up in surprise, she'd spoken out loud without knowing it. Her eyes met the hazel eyes watching her and she nodded almost imperceptibly, "And how did that make you feel?" There they were, those infamous words. How did it make her feel, Sam wasn't sure she knew. She spent so much time hiding her feelings, locking them up in the back of her mind so she could retain her cool unfeeling outer shell.<p>

"I was four, I didn't know what feelings were."

The therapist nodded pleased that she was finally getting somewhere, "And now? How do you feel towards your father now? Angry, sad?"

"He's dead"

"And how..." Sam wouldn't let those words leave her mouth again.

"Indifferent"

"You feel indifferently about your fathers death?" The therapist was surprised, she'd read the young doctor quite accurately when they first met but still to be indifferent to the death of a parent was an extreme reaction.

"He wasn't my father, just a bloke who gave me some DNA." She had a look in her eyes, it wasnt yet recognisable but she spoke again quietly "He was nothing." The therapist raised one eyebrow at her response.

"Do you think the rejection by your father affected your relationship with your husband?"

"He wasn't my father!" Sam jumped to her feet and walked over to the window wrapping her arms around herself. She was angry that she had let the psychiatrist in so far, and quickly trying to rebuild the walls around her heart which were crumbling almost as fast in a dynamic equilibrium. "maybe." She glanced over at the couch where her husband was sat silently looking at her in surprise, he hadn't known. She never spoke about her family. He'd met her mother twice, once at their wedding and once before that. No father was ever mentioned.

She looked back at the therapist who was furiously making notes and was suddenly angry. " What would you know anyway? You're only a psychiatrist." She grabbed her things and made to leave having had enough for one day.

"Psychologist actually." whatever she was she seemed unfased by Sam's sudden outburst, she was probably used to it. You couldn't be that annoying and not have people storm out of your office on a regular bases.

"Well it's still not a doctor." and with that she was gone slamming the door behind her leaving a tense silence in her wake. She leant her back on the door for a moment trying to calm her breathing before making her way to the car park to wait for Dylan.

"I'm sorry, she's never normally like that. Um okay she is I suppose." When he thought about it that was completely normal behaviour for his wife, walking away from emotion and probably hiding if he knew her as a well as he thought he did."

"That's alright Dr Keogh, I'm used to it." She glanced at her watch, "We're out of time anyway so I suppose I shall see you next week?" She finished writing and shut her folder looking up at him questioningly, he appeared to be lost in thought. "Doctor Keogh?" Strange how she referred to him as doctor but not Sam.

"Err yes next week" He left quickly presumably to find his wife leaving the marriage counsellor sat shaking her head in despair.

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><p><strong>What do you think so far?<strong>

Some of you may have noticed a line pinched from another bbc show or I should say ex bbc show, it finished almost two years ago and in homage I have based the character of the marriage counsellor on the main character. Bonus points to anyone who can guess who it is!


	2. Mist

**Here is chapter 2 thanks to ficmouse, and Elly and Tilda for your reviews. This long one is for you.**

**This chapter is rather more serious than the last but we will return to the slightly funny soon, this answers all the questions about how they ended up there.**

**There is quite a bit of legal stuff in this chapter, I should warn you that I know little about law and although I researched loads to write this some of it may not be correct. If ere are lawyers reading maybe close our eyes when you get there.**

**As always I own nothing.**

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><p>When Dylan reached the car she wasn't there, he hadn't really thought she would be. He had driven her there, it seemed silly for her to walk when they were going to the same place. But he knew as soon as she had left the room that her way of dealing with emotions was to run, which was what she had inevitably done. Rain had started to fall while he was inside the counsellors office, if you could call it rain. It was more like a fine mist that instantly soaked through your clothes, and was blown in your face by the near freezing wind. Dylan got in the car and pulled away before buckling his seat belt, turning left out of the car park hoping to catch Sam before she was completely drenched.<p>

Sam hadn't run, it had been the first thought that crossed her mind when she slammed the door but she wasn't dressed for it. Her way of dealing with anything and everything was to pound the street, she could order her thoughts better while running and it was what her body craved now when she couldn't handle a situation. Unfortunately today she was dressed in skinny jeans and boots, not quite running attire. She had leant on his car for a moment before deciding to walk, the speed she walked at was closer to a jog for most people and would hopefully satisfy her endorphin craving. She pulled her inadequate jacket about her and folded her arms against the prevailing wind before setting off at a fast pace. Sam hadn't been walking long before the air became wet and began to engulf her, she sped up hoping to get home before hypothermia became a potential risk. As she walked there was nothing to distract her from the wave of thoughts constantly threatening to swamp her.

'We could get together, sit down and work this out.'

That's what he'd said, she knew he had been talking about the whole Keith Parr thing when he'd said it, but she had also known that he was really talking about them. In the same way that she had been talking about herself when talking to Tracey. She would hurt for Dylan, and protect him, that's what had gotten them into this in the first place. Keith had reported her to the police and tried to get her charged with assault occasioning to actual bodily harm, which if found guilty carried at least five year prison sentence. However once the hospital released the CCTV footage of the incident it was clear those charges would not stand up in court so they were reduced to inflicting actual bodily harm. The law was on Sam's side, both the common and statutory laws of defence stated that:

'a person is permitted to use reasonable force to prevent the commission of a crime.'

Which was exactly what she had done, she'd prevented an assault on Dylan which could have involved ABH, GBH or worse. Mr Parr appeared to her to have many issues and maybe anger management was something he should be looking into, yet it was her who had been advised by her lawyers to seek counselling both for anger management and to resolve the issues she clearly had with her husband. Those were the exact words that had been used and Mr Jordan had agreed that they needed to 'sort it out' so now they went to marriage counselling once a week for all the good it did. The big question mark was over the word 'reasonable' it came up over and over again in the defence laws, if she could prove that she had only used 'reasonable' force to stop the attack she would be fine. If not she faced prison, getting struck off by the GMC and dishonourable discharge from the army. No-one could be clear on what 'reasonable' meant. Sam had spent many sleepless nights since being charged trawling the Internet in the hope of finding something to help her, she had found one legal text book which said:

'... where a forcible and violent felony is attempted upon the person of another, the party assaulted, or his servant, or any other person present, is entitled to repel force by force, and, if necessary, to kill the aggressor ...'

She hadn't killed him so she surely must be fine, however that was said by some Lord in the seventies so probably wasn't relevant. She needed to be able to prove that someone else would have reacted the same way, and caused the same outcome. Unfortunately for her that particular partial law actually said that someone else of the same age and sex would have to react the same way, that was pretty unlikely how many 26 year old women could break a man's neck? A small smile graced her face, was she bragging? Maybe a bit, that definitely wouldn't help her defence. No, had it been anyone else they would have let Dylan get hurt. Probably called for security who wouldn't have got there quick enough to prevent her husband getting injured. But was it reasonable force? It would have been if Keith Parr were a squadie who needed restraining, it would have been if he had a weapon of some sort but he hadn't. Her response had been the culmination of a terrible day and her need to protect a man she had unresolved feelings for, who knew how a court would react.

Sam lifted her head from starring at the puddles on the pavement and pushed her dripping wet hair from her face suddenly realising that she hadn't been watching where her feet were taking her and now found herself in a part of Holby she didn't know, simultaneously she became aware that a car was crawling along the road beside her causing a tail back. It was Dylan, he'd obviously been trying to get her attention for a while.

"Samantha!" he sounded exasperated "get in the car." she did as she was bid listening to the symphony of horns that rang out behind them. "Will you shut up!" she looked at him in surprise as he pulled away from the curb driving quickly to try and dissolve the trail of vehicles following him. Eventually when they reached clearer roads he slowed down enough to look at her and noticed for the first time that she was shivering violently. He shrugged off his coat with some difficulty keeping one hand on the steering wheel at all times and threw it at her.

"Thank you." she took it gratefully and pulled her knees up to her chest so they could be covered too.

"Where we're you going? There's nothing in that direction."

"I don't know," both of them were surprised when she answered truthfully "I was thinking, my feet just kept going of their own accord."

He looked at her curiously, "You need to watch that, could be dangerous."

"What?"

"Thinking." he turned his attention back to the road having satisfied himself that her shivers had diminished at least a little, and allowed silence to fall. "What about?" No-one had spoken for at least a minute and she was once again lost to her thoughts.

"What?"

His tone hardened slightly, he hated repeating himself "What were you thinking about?"

"Oh," she looked out of the window "Everything"

"You couldn't have been thinking about everything so come on, what is it?" Sam snapped her head back round to look at him with amusement in her eyes, he really was the most pedantic man she had ever met. The amusement dropped and so did her gaze, "Sam?"

"Am I going to prison?" she may as well have whispered she'd said it so quietly and he finally saw just how much the case was affecting her, she'd been hiding it and acting tough as usual but as he looked at he now he saw the weight she had lost and the dark rings under her eyes.

"No." he glanced away from the road and met her eyes seeing fear evident in them. "No, I won't let you." he took her fingers and squeezed them gently before moving to change gear, she instantly missed the warmth his hand had provided to her freezing fingers but more than that she missed the comfort of the gesture. But he didn't put his hand back on hers, placing it instead on the steering wheel for the remainder of the journey.

Eventually they pulled up outside her flat and Dylan looked at Sam expectantly, she desperately wanted to invite him in. She'd been alone since getting suspended, Nick had tried to keep her working but she was suspended pending the outcome of investigation. He had at least managed to swing full pay for her somehow, but she missed being around people. Now she barely got out of her pyjamas, just wallowed in her self pity.

"Do you want to come in?" he looked at her curiously, she had never let him into her flat before. He guessed she must be lonely and probably bored without work to occupy her,

"No" he shook his head, "I have to work, and you have to dry off."

"Oh," she'd forgotten she was wet. "Yes" She un-clipped her seatbelt but was stopped from getting out of the car by Dylan's hand on her arm, she turned to look at him.

"Maybe, er if your not busy you could walk Dervla?" he held out a set of keys which she took, smiling as she saw straight through him. He knew she wouldn't ever willingly accept help so he had to make it seem like she was doing him a favour, Dervla would have two walks today but it meant Sam wouldn't be alone all night.

"Thank you." She got out of the car and headed up the steps to her flat still wearing Dylan's coat, but when she realised and turned back he had gone. She ran the rest of the way to her front door, quickly letting herself in and curling up into a soggy bunddle on the floor by the door. She didn't cry, she'd cried so much in the first few days after her suspension that she had no more tears to shed. She should get up and get out of her wet clothes but at that point she couldn't move, she was frozen by the emotions suddenly drowning her. It was always like this after counselling. She worked so hard the rest of the time to keep them in check but once that bloody woman opened the gate everything came tumbling out whether she wanted it to or not.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading, I would love it if you had the time to leave me a review.<strong>

**I did research he legal stuff a lot and as far as I am aware it is correct, and judging by what I have read Sam should have nothing to worry about. However I sense the beeb ddon't agree with me there.**


	3. Chairs

**This chapter flicks back and forth between Sam and Dylan having private sessions both with the same counsellor, I think it's clear whose talking when but if not please let me know. This is how I imagine it being filmed so I tried to write it the same way.**

**There are a few psycohological terms used because I like long words they make me sound clever but I have put a glossary at the end to help you, anyone who knows psychology I got all of this off the web so please let me know if it's wrong.**

**As always I don't own Dylan or Sam, or the character the nameless phsychologist is based on. All belong to the BBC, I have also used two lines which Dylan said in recent episodes, and one line was inspired by ficmouse's reviewing chapter 1**.

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><p>"Samantha Keogh" Sam closed the book she had been reading and returned it to her bag as she followed the counsellor to her room, it felt weird to be called Keogh. Professionally she'd stayed Nicholls to avoid confusion, there wasn't really anyone who called her Keogh. Except maybe the bank, and now apparently the phsychologist. It was probably one of her tricks, like calling her Sam but Dylan Dr Keogh to make her feel small. Not that she needed it, there were ants bigger than she felt. "Please take a seat." the phsychologist gestured at the room and Sam pondered for a moment. She dearly longed to take the seat of power that usually belonged to the counsellor, just to annoy her. But if she did it would go down in her file that she had megalomania or something which wouldn't help her case. Instead she sat down in the smaller arm chair beside the sofa, aware that her choice probably meant something anyway. "So Sam, how are you doing?" she tilted her head to one side in what was clearly supposed to be a caring manner but just looked forced and patronising.<p>

"Fine," she wasn't fine at all, she was barely sleeping or eating. Only dressing for her trips to counselling and meetings with her lawyer, the rest of the time she wore slouchy trousers and an army t-shirt. She'd go to the shops or out to walk Dervla which she now did most days while Dylan was working without showering or changing, just throwing on an old Uni hoody to hide her unwashed hair and his coat to keep out the cold. She was dreading the next time she saw him when he would inevitably ask for it back.

"And how are you coping with your suspension?" stupid question really, how does anyone cope with such things?

"Fine," she decided she may as well play ball. She needed this woman to pronounce her 'sane' if she were to have any hope of getting the charges dropped. "I miss it, miss being able to help people." The psychologist nodded and wrote something in the file that was once again balanced on her lap.

"You feel like you've lost your purpose?"

"Yes," Sam answered slowly, she couldn't have worded it any better herself.

"Was that why you went into medicine? To help people?" Sam shook her head playing with the arm of the chair distractedly,

"My Mother made me," she had intended to leave it there but the woman across from her waved her hand to encourage Sam to elaborate. "Her parents couldn't afford higher education and she wanted me to have the opportunities she didn't, whether I wanted them or not."

"And you didn't?"

"I did, I just wanted to come to that decision on my own." Sam watched the pen scratch across the page and wondered what was being written.

"And you joined the army to get away?" Sam nodded, annoying as she was this woman seemed to understand her. "And was that when you decided you needed to help people?" Sam nodded again her eyes clouding slightly as she remembered.

"It was on my first tour, I was saving lives out there. Really helping people... They needed me." although she hadn't spoken of the horrors She'd seen they were clear to see in her eyes and she watched upside down as something which looked like post traumatic stress was written in the file. Sam narrowed her eyes, she had been affected by her experiences it was impossible to spend time out there and not get nightmares but she had seen real PTSD and she didn't have it.

"Dylan Keogh" he closed the journal he had been reading and followed the psychologist to her room, she'd clearly dispensed with the 'doctor' then. Or perhaps it was because Samantha wasn't there to be intimidated by it. "Please..." he walked straight in and sat in the middle of the sofa stretching his legs out in front of him, he watched while she took up his file and settled on the edge of her seat. "Doctor Keogh..."

"Why is it that when you become a doctor you lose your first name?" The counsellor frowned, she was surprised at his interruption and wasn't quite sure if it was an insult or not.

"I don't know, I suppose it would..."

"But you wouldn't want to be treated by 'Dr Dylan' and 'Dr Dylan Keogh' takes too long to say." She wasn't certain that he'd finished talking so paused for a moment.

"Right" He watched her write Narcissistic characteristics in his file, he could have told her that if she'd asked. "So Dylan, tell me about Sam."

"What do you want to know?" He thought for a moment before adding in "She doesn't like to be called blonde." "And she hates eyebrows."

"Okay"

"Not in a trichotillomania way.""

"How about you and Sam, how did you meet."

"Err," Dylan looked a little uncomfortable "she trained in the hospital where I was working."

"And how did you get together, on a night out maybe?"

Dylan looked scornful, "No, I don't do 'nights out' and neither does Samantha." He thought for a moment, "I don't know, we just sort of did."

"Did you have a lot of relationships with colleagues?"

"No." He wasn't about to help her, ask a closed ended question get a closed answer.

"When did you realise you loved her?"

"I don't think Dylan ever really knew what love was, even friendship is pretty foreign to him."

"But he loved you?"

"He cared for me, I'm not sure about love." She paused for a moment, "He isn't very good at expressing emotions." The counsellor nodded and made a note even though she had already become aware of that.

"He married you, he must have felt something for you?"

Sam nodded. "He was trying to protect me, he thought he could stop me from going back to Afghanistan."

"Did it work?"

"For a while, until things got difficult anyway. Then I went back..."

"To get away?" She nodded again.

"The thing about our relationship was if I would say or do something wrong, rather than argue or sulk Sam would act recklessly, she puts herself in danger simply so that she can see me sweat." Dylan saw her scribble 'possible histrionic tendencies' under Sam's name, he wrote it off as a ridiculous diagnosis.

"How would you describe your relationship before she left?"

He exhaled, "Discussion wasn't a strong point."

"Was that why you separated?"

"No."

"I had an affair." The psychologist raised her eyebrows, not at all what she had been expecting. But then it couldn't be easy being married to someone with Schizoid personality disorder "It was just a stupid one time thing." Sam tiredly rubbed both hands over her eyes then rested her fingers on her temples and stared at her knees. "I regretted it as soon as it was over."

"It was on her second tour, she told me straight away."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Angry," The psychologist was surprised to hear him answer, he'd been dodging emotional questions ever since their first session. "I know she's sorry but I can't get past the fact that she betrayed me."

"So you left her?"

"Yes"

"Why haven't you divorced?"

Dylan appeared to struggle to form words before he eventually responded, "Because I still love her."

"Do you still love him?"

Sam lifted her eyes to meet the counsellor's gaze without moving her head. "Yes"

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><p><strong>Psychological words:<strong>

**I have put these in the simplest way as I understand them please let me know if any of it is wrong.**

**Megalomania = obsession with the exercise of power, probably the most famous example being Hitler.**

**PTSD = Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Severe anxiety disorder developed after a traumatic event.**

**Trichotillomania = Compulsive hair pulling, any hair; scalp, eyebrows, eyelashes, body hair etc.**

**Narcissism = No-one is as awesome as me! An inordinate obsession with oneself.**

**Schizoid personality disorder = Quite Simply Dylan. Difficulty forming relationships, prefers to be alone, avoids social situations. Google it, it's just him.**

**Histrionic personality disorder = constantly needing to be the centre of attention and will go to extreme lengths to get there. Overly theatrical or melodramatic.**

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><p>Thank you for reading, I would love a review if you have a moment to write one.<p> 


	4. Dinner?

**Occasionally Dylan does something very un-dylany (what do you mean dylany isn't a word?) I try to minimise the occasions but without it the story would never move forward, chances are it bothers me more than it does everyone else but I just wanted to apologise if you see something that feels out of character. Anyway enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think. X**

**As usual I don't own casualty but in this chapter I also down own To Kill a Mockingbird. If you haven't read it, it's a fantastic book give it a look.**

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><p><em>'I never heard tell that it's against the law for a citizen to do his utmost to prevent a crime from being committed.' Mr Tate - Sheriff of Maycomb county. (To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee) <em>

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><p>Sam unlocked the door to Dylan's houseboat, allowing Dervla to go in ahead of her. She kicked off her ugg boots and left them on the door mat, then hung up the lead she was carrying and made her way through to the kitchen to make sure that Dervla had enough food and water. She was surprised to see her husband in the living area fussing over the excited dog.<p>

"Sorry, I thought you were working." Dylan looked up at her without removing his hand from Dervla's soft coat.

"I was." He hadn't been there when Sam had collected Dervla earlier, but that was only a couple of hours ago and the copy of his shift pattern she had said he was on lates. Sam shuffled uncomfortably,

"I'll just err... Sorry." She turned to leave,

"Sam," he noticed suddenly that she was wearing his jacket but made no comment. "Do you want a coffee?"

"No," she looked at the floor. "I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me," he didn't raise his voice but he sounded angry "you are not fine." He moved a little closer scrutinising her appearance with his hands on his hips, making her squirm a little under his clinical gaze. "When was the last time you ate?" She started to answer but he cut in, "A proper meal, coffee isn't food."

"But the caffeine lyses the fat stored in the body making it available for..."

"Yes I know," she was dodging the question which he was finding really annoying, suddenly knowing how the counsellor felt when trying to get an answer out of him. "We did that research together, but you clearly have no fat stores and it doesn't change the fact that coffee is not food." She flinched, his tone had been so harsh he may as well have shouted at her. "Well, when was it?"

"I don't know." Her voice was small, and her eyes were glued to the floor boards. Dylan didn't reply, instead he strode of in the direction of the kitchen with her trailing along in his wake feeling very much like a disciplined child. He started pulling things out of cupboards and putting pans on the stove, he turned back to see Sam stood in the doorway trying to shrink into her clothes.

"Sit down." He wasn't asking, so she took off the jacket and sat on the stool he indicated resting her elbows on the breakfast bar and her head on her hands. She was expecting him to comment about elbows on the table but she was so exhausted from lack of sleep and worry that even holding up her own head had become hard work. Dylan glanced at her every now and then as he threw ingredients into pans but didn't try to engage her in conversation, she was clearly deep in her own thoughts. Eventually he placed two plates of food on the counter, he'd always been the one to cook when they had been together. Sam could cook when she really had to but her specialities were pot noodle or toast so Dylan had attempted to teach her but after much frustration and a few burnt meals he gave up and resigned himself to being head chef, she'd got him the hat at one point.

"Thank you." He nodded in acknowledgement and passed Sam a fork before sitting down opposite her and digging in to his own meal, it was only pasta with a tomato sauce but it was food. He hadn't been expecting sharing his dinner with anyone other than Dervla so had nothing special in. They ate in silence for a while, Dylan watching as Sam picked at her pasta. She should have been ravenous but was barely eating and chewing each mouthful very thoroughly.

"Have you read 'To Kill a Mocking Bird?" Sam looked up from her plate, she didn't reply immediately. The randomness of the question had completely thrown her, apart from anything else Dylan didn't do books. He read research papers and medical journals, but he wouldn't normally waste his time reading something that wasn't educational. He'd taken her silence as a no, "It's a book by Harper Lee."

"Yes, I know. I had to read it for GCSE" He frowned at her. She knew why, he hated having to talk when it wasn't necessary. "Why?"

"It might help."

"With what? I don't remember things working out too well for Tom Robinson," her tone lowered slightly "He was innocent too."

"You can borrow it." Sam pushed her half empty plate away, shrugging when he narrowed his eyes at her. Not having eaten properly for about a week her stomach had shrunk so she couldn't manage the huge portion he'd served her, he was releived to have seen her eat something even if she hadnt finished it. She slid off the stool and followed him back through to the lounge slumping on the sofa that used to stand in the living room of the house they had bought together while he rummaged on the bookshelf above the fire place. It felt so natural to be here with him, surrounded by things that had once been 'theirs' but at the same time she felt as though she was invading his personal space. There was nothing that defined the room as 'his' it was just a feeling, like he inhabited the whole environment leaving no room for her. It was completely opposite to the way Sam live, she was just staying in her flat rather than living there, she hadn't even properly unpacked. "Here it is" Dylan passed her the black book, she recognised the cover from when she had been forced to read it ten years before. She nodded her thanks and set the book on the floor in front of the sofa, picking her feet up to curl under her and resting her head on the arm. Dylan settled himself in the arm chair which resided at her end of the sofa, it had always been Sam's end. Where she sat, not even Dervla sat there. She would occasionally be seen staring at the spot wistfully and Dylan often wondered if the dog was missing Sam as much as he was. "Have you got counselling tomorrow?" Sam shook her head without lifting it from where is was pillowed against the upholstery,

"Meeting with the hospital lawyers, you?"

"Same," Dylan stared straight forward rather than looking at her worried that his next question would be met with dismissal and unwilling to see the rejection me was sure would fill her eyes. "err, do you want me to wait for you in the ED?"

He glanced over at where she was curled on the sofa wondering why she hadn't replied only to see that she was fast asleep. Quietly so as not to wake her he gently pulled the throw that lived over the back of the sofa down over her sleeping form and brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen over her face, briefly allowing his fingers to linger on her soft cheek. He momentarily considered kissing her forehead as he used to but resisted the urge in case she woke, certain that she wouldn't be impressed. "Sleep tight" he whispered before creeping away to his bed with giving her sleeping mistress one last look before slinking out of the room behind him.

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><p>Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it if you did (or if you didn't) please let me know why I love to hear your thoughts.<p>

I know they wouldn't have done the caffeine research, it is very basic. It was actually my dissertation but in the last chapter you learnt phsychology, law the chapter before so this time you get biochemistry. It is true that caffeine helps release the fat stored in your body so it can be used for respiration at a faster rate than without caffeine, it's not a huge amount though and I wouldn't suggest this as a diet plan.


	5. Roof

**Thanks to all the very lovely reviewers and alerters, this chapter is especially for you. **

**As always I don't own casualty, I've also (briefly) mentioned the BBC comedy series porridge which I don't own either.**

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><p>Sam woke feeling better than she had in a long time, some how she had managed a whole nights sleep without waking up in a cold sweat from dreams of being I prisoner behind metal bars. Every time she had closed her eyes since being suspended she saw the opening titles to porridge with doors closing her off from the outside world, and no means of escape. She stretched out from her cramped position and promptly fell off the sofa landing on her hands and knees on the floor, she stayed there bewildered for a couple of seconds before recognising her surroundings as Dylan's boat. Slightly embarrassed at having fallen asleep she scrambled to her feet using the sofa to pull herself up like a small child then stumbled to the kitchen. She was surprised to find a note there from Dylan, he didn't do notes. Although this one only held two words so she wasn't certain it could be described as such, it simply said: EAT BREAKFAST! Sam smiled to herself, for Dylan that was about as caring as it got. He rarely wasted ink or time on something a trifling as an exclamation mark, unless of course he was particularly annoyed. She helped herself to a cup of coffee and slice of toast and marmite, knowing that he would check to see if she really had eaten.<p>

Later after she'd been back to her flat to shower and change Sam walked into the ED for the first time since being suspended, she smiling to Noel and Big Mac who were chatting at reception and they returned her greeting.

"Hey Princess," Jeff and Dixie were returning to the ambulance with an empty stretcher but stopped when they saw her. "Long time no see, how's the suspension?" Jeff wrapped her in a fatherly hug that almost brought Sam to tears. It had been so long since she'd had any physical contact with anyone, the unexpected intimacy threw her off a little and she bit back a sob. She wasn't usually a cuddly person but received one from Dixie as well who commented that she'd lost weight but was interrupted when the radio summoned them to a shout, "Come out for a drink later?" Jeff shouted as he jogged in the other direction.

"Maybe," Sam nodded knowing it was unlikely that she'd actually go. It was strange she craved contact with the outside world but then withdrew when it was offered, maybe that was because there was only one person she wanted to be with and he was... Standing in front of her, and wearing scrubs. Dylan never wore scrubs anymore, something which saddened Sam greatly. She had always enjoyed the view of his behind in scrubs, this she was convinced was the reason he rarely wore them now. She smirked a little to herself as he approached her and she realised that he had the sleeves of his top rolled up like the 'cool kids' did, if he knew Lenny and Lloyd did it to show off their upper arm muscles he probably wouldn't bother. It wasn't an area in which he was particularly well endowed.

"Ready?" Sam nodded, anyone else would have asked how she'd slept. Or at least mentioned the night before but then Dylan wasn't anyone else.

"Yes, lets get it over with." She hated lawyers, she'd seen enough of them in the last few weeks to last her a life time. That was another reason now to delay the inevitable divorce.

They rode the lift in silence to the upper floor where the offices for non-medical staff were, Dylan glanced at Sam who was staring resolutely at the wall. Normally she wouldn't take the lift unless she was transporting a patient or she had no other choice, she always said that stairs were better excercise but he knew the real reason.

"Okay?" Sam nodded keeping her mouth a tight line, while Dylan had never been good at reading people somehow with her it was easy. Her faced relaxed briefly upon exiting the metal box but tightened up again as they reached the door to the room they were meeting the hospitals lawyers in.

They entered the board room and shook hands with the two lawyers who each stood to greet them before reclaiming their seats. They were almost identical and about as lawyerly as you could get, both wore grey suits with plain ties. Both had dark hair, shiny shoes, and both wore glasses with square black frames. The doctors took the seats opposite them, Dylan sat up straight while Sam slouched in her chair like a teenager. The slightly older lawyer spoke first, it seemed as though he was in charge but as neither doctor had bothered to learn their names the only way to distinguish them was by age.

"Okay, what we're going to do today is go over the case and work out what needs to be said."

"You mean we're going to get our stories straight?"

"If you like," the younger lawyer smiled at Sam who scowled back.

"But she's going to get off anyway, she didn't do anything wrong."

"We don't know for sure, it's the question of reasonable force." The older lawyer jumped in, "There was a case recently in Newcastle where 16 men followed one young man home and attacked him in his own front garden, his father came out to help with a bat of some sort and gave one to his son as well. The father and son both went to prison while the gang got off because it was decided they used more than reasonable force."

"But that's ridiculous, 16 blokes could have killed him. And it's not as though I had a weapon."

"No, but that's where things get complicated. As a member of the armed forces you are trained in combat so your body could potentially be classed as a weapon."

"This isn't some karate film, your acting as though she could kill someone."

"Doctor Keogh, please try to remember that we are on your side." Dylan folded his arms huffily "And given the fact That Doctor Nicholls was able to break a mans neck she probably could have killed him."

"I am here you know," Sam was getting fed up of being talked about rather than to. They may as well have told her to sit in the corner while the men sorted everything out. "and no, I couldn't have killed him." As the lawyers were talking she was starting to feel trapped, it was as though the room was slowly shrinking. Iron bars descending over the windows and the door, soon there would be no way out and shed be stuck inside forever. "I could never kill anyone, I do the saving." Her throat felt tight and her breathing rate increased, she had to get out. "I've seen what killing does to people and I don't want that ever to be me." With that she ran from the room and didn't stop until she could see sky.

"Is that normal behaviour for her?"

"Err..." Dylan was about to deny it but felt lying to a lawyer was never a good course of action "increasingly, excuse me." he left the room in

pursuit of his wife knowing exactly where she would have gone.

"Sam!" Dylan tumbled out of the door onto the hospital roof breathlessly having hoped to catch her on the stairs, he span around searching for her and panicked when he found her sat on the wall that ran around the roof to stop people from falling off and dangling her legs over the edge of the hospital. "Samantha, come down from there." he was terrified but somehow managed to only sound mildly annoyed, "it will be alright." She swung her legs around so although she was still sat on the edge she was now facing inwards,

"Do you promise?" Dylan paused for a moment, then held out his hand as though enticing her down.

"Yes," Sam took the proffered hand and jumped the short distance back to the roof. Before she even had time to recover from the jump she found herself ensconced in her husbands arms. "It will be alright." he stroked her hair soothingly,

"You should never make promises you can't keep, first rule of medicine. You taught me that." He released her from his embrace and brushed her hair back, resting his hands on her shoulders he looked her in both eyes.

"I promise." he pulled her back into a hug for a second before letting her go and stepping back, he felt suddenly awkward at the display of affection and not entirely sure where they stood with each other. "C'mon, we need to finish this meeting." Sam nodded and followed him meekly back towards the stairs, she hadn't been planning on jumping. If she had wanted to kill herself the hospital was probably the last place she'd do it. Her worst feat was to be trapped with no way out which was something that felt more real now than ever before, even when capture by the Taliban was a possibility. She had just needed to feel free which she always did on top of a building or mountain or sometimes flying. She saw every day in both her work as a doctor and in the army just how precious life was, she would never take her own. But at least she had provoked a reaction from her husband, even if it was unintentional.

* * *

><p><strong>The case of the sixteen guys being held off by a father and son with bats is a real one and they did both serve long stretches despite being first time offenders, actually I think they are still serving. It wasnt Newcastle though, I don't know where it was but a friend who works in the prison tells me things I probably shouldn't know.<strong>

**And lawyerly is a real word I swear! So maybe I could get Dylany into the English language...**

**If you liked it please review. X**


	6. Chips

I am so sorry for the delay, I have been fighting the blues which make anything other than sleeping difficult. I shall endeavour to not keep you waiting as long next time. Thanks to Miss Rach for repeatedly poking me with a pointy stick till I wrote something. X

I do not own Casualty or 'All time low' by the wanted which is briefly mentioned - I do own the song but not the rights, same goes for the Nike+ iPhone app which is telling Sam how far/fast she is running. - its awesome btw I'm using to train for a race and Paula Radcliffe does talk to you, I don't own her either.

* * *

><p>How do you get up get up get up...<p>

Sam slowed to a walk pulling the headphones from her ears, if the wanted didn't know then she had no hope of working it out. She stood for a moment to catch her breath and stretched her arms contemplating the hill before her, it wasn't that steep. It looked like it would be easy to run but she knew from experience that it wasn't, it seemed to go on forever and her calves would be burning before too long. The cold wind whipped at her bare arms and she relished the pain, at least it meant she could still feel something. She selected a new song and set off up the hill, today even running couldn't keep her mind from her current predicament. Her husband had distanced himself further from her following their 'moment' on the roof, he seemed to think he'd crossed the line and was now backing as far away from said line as possible. She pressed on and a voice in her ear told her that she had just passed her distance record, forcing her feet into the pavement a little harder she knew she could smash her time record too. Sure enough as she reached the crest of the hill Paula Radcliffe told her she had logged her fastest time for the last mile. Sam rested her hands on bent knees and caught her breath before straightening up to look out over Holby, the only good thing about the uphill struggle was that sooner or later there would be a nice easy down hill stretch. She could always roll down like she had as a child if she couldn't run any further, but right now she wanted to enjoy the feeling of being top of the world. She always felt freer when she could see the world spread out beneath her like a model village, even as a little girl she could always be found at the tops of trees or one memorable occasion on the roof of the house she was living in.

She allowed her thoughts to drift once again to her estranged Husband, it seemed he was more often in her thoughts now than anything else even the hearing which was looming ever closer. She glanced to the bottom of the hill where Dylan's houseboat sat and saw that the man himself was home, could she run past and bump into him? Or pretend she didn't know he was home? Maybe she should just walk in and tell him they needed to talk, sort things out. Zoe had said more than once that the pair of them needed to be locked in a room until they were either back together or divorced, Sam suspected she was hoping for a negative outcome. Not that Dylan was the slightest bit interested, as far as she was aware anyway. Sam set off again heading for the bottom of the hill and the tow path where Dylan's boat was moored, she would just run past nonchalantly and perhaps he would see and come out. With the help of gravity she picked up speed and soon the scenery was flying past just a colourful blur as she sped towards the bottom of the hill which from this angle seemed almost insignificant, just a bump in the road. Was that what 'now' would look like in a few years time? Just a little bit of turbulence on an otherwise smooth journey? She doubted it, this was more like a mountain and they appear just as steep no matter how you look at them. She reached the bottom of the hill and stumbled a little at the terrain change but carried on regardless maintaining her speed as she ran straight past Dylan's boat without even turning her head, she wanted to go in and tell him she needed him but something stopped her. Pride and stubbornness kept her running, she just couldn't admit that she wasn't coping. Had the man in question not been equally stubborn maybe he would have seen the signs, he did see her.

Dylan had glanced up at the window just in time to see a shape he immediately recognised as his wife run past, he wanted to stop her get her to come in out of the cold but he knew she would be long gone before he could even get to the door. She wasn't looking after herself, it was clear that despite his telling off a few nights previously she still wasn't eating proper meals. She couldn't carry on like this, certainly not if she was running long distances every day. He couldn't allow her to continue hurting herself, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door before realising he was still wearing slippers and stopping to change his shoes.

"Dervla! We're going out." The dog came promptly and allowed him to attach her lead, he straightened up "We've got to go and see Sam before she does something stupid" Dervla looked up and met his gaze "Don't look at me like that." Dylan walked toward the door but Dervla didn't move. "Come on." He gestured towards the door but she sat down defiantly "I didn't say she was stupid." Dervla settled down resting her head on her front paws "Alright, alright." he threw his hands up in defeat "I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that about Sam, I didn't mean it." He glared at the dog who had raised her head. "Can we go now?" she made a murmer of assent and leapt to her feet leading the way from the houseboat, waiting for her master at the path whilst he locked the door. He took her lead and they headed off in the direction Sam herself had been travelling moments before.

"Sam, Samantha!" He banged on the door to her flat but got no response, he waited a moment then turned to leave but was stopped by a whining noise from the dog at his feet. "She's not in Dervla, she must still be running." he started walking away but was stopped by his dog who was still not moving from the door. "Your right, of course." he leant against the wall beside her door and slid down to sit on the floor. "We should wait, she needs us whether she wants to admit it or not." Dervla settled down beside him to wait for her mistress with her head on Dylan's knee and his hand absently resting in her fur. That's how Sam found them a few minutes later when she finally returned from her run, to say she'd taken the long way round was a gross understatement.

"Hi," she was still trying to get her breath back and more than a little surprised to find her husband and dog on her doorstep. Both of whom scrambled to their feet on her appearance, Sam fumbled in the zip pocket of her trousers for her keys and promptly dropped them. They both bent down to retrieve the keys from the carpet but Dylan beat her to it, straightening up just in time to catch her as she swayed slightly on her feet. "Sorry," she pushed him away and took the keys "Stood up too fast."

"Hmmm" she glared at him in much the same way Dervla had earlier, the dog pushed past Sam's legs and entered the flat taking herself on a tour before returning to sit beside Sam staring up at Dylan expectantly.

"Are you coming in?"

"Yes, I brought..." he passed her the package he was carrying that unmistakably contained chips drenched in vinegar, the only way she would eat them.

"Thanks," She gestured towards the sofa where Dervla had made herself comfortable meaning for Dylan to join her but instead he followed her to the kitchen and began opening cupboards while she searched for clean plates.

"Do you have any food?" he sounded annoyed to mask the worry he was feeling, Sam just shrugged and pulled two plates from the pile of dirty washing up which covered every surface in the small kitchen and started washing them. Dylan turned his attention to the rest of the small flat which could only be described as filthy, there was a pile of dirty clothes on the floor by the empty washing machine. Dirty cups with varying levels of mould growth sat on every counter and there seemed to be rubbish everywhere. "Sam," she glanced at him then returned to sharing the chips between two now clean plates. "Sam," he sounded even more exasperated if that were possible. She pushed a plate of chips at him and took hers to the sofa where Dervla was curled up at one end on a duvet that and been left there, Dylan followed picking his way through the mess that littered the floor and sat down beside her. "Sam, you can't carry on like this."

"Why not?" He was relieved to have finally got a response from her even if she were being her usual defiant self.

"Your clearly not eating or sleeping, you have to start looking after yourself. If you don't then it's like your letting him win."

"What's the point?"

"Get up,"

"What?" She looked completely confused, Dervla however jumped to attention.

"You can't stay here in..." he gestured at the discord around him "this, your coming with us."

"But..." Dylan didn't let her speak instead propelled her out of the door and locked it behind them, leaving the cold chips she had only picked at forgotten on the table.


End file.
